


Preferred Throne

by sumnawaz



Category: Blood and Ash Series - Jennifer L. Armentrout
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut, Throne Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:48:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27343807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumnawaz/pseuds/sumnawaz
Summary: Poppy knows the throne is hers to take. Casteel makes her comfortable with it.
Relationships: Casteel/Poppy, Penellaphe Balfour/Casteel Da'Neer, Poppy Balfour/Casteel Da'Neer, Poppy/Casteel
Kudos: 109





	Preferred Throne

**Author's Note:**

> honestly just some throne sex for our favorite King and Queen of Atlantia. all characters belong to Jennifer L. Armentrout.

“Are you going to take a seat? Or just admire from afar?”

I turned at the sound of Casteel’s voice, glancing over my shoulder to see him prowl into the grand room with those long legs. Amber eyes met mine as he added, “In case I have to remind you—it’s yours.”

My heart jumped, turning to look back towards the dais as I said quietly, “You don’t have to remind me.” He didn’t.

_ Queen _ .

That’s what I was. And he was King. Whether we were ready for it or not. 

I hadn’t entered this room until now, because there hadn’t been a coronation ceremony to make it official—yet. But I’d been assured there  _ would _ be one, to invite the people of Atlantia so they could welcome their new king and queen. The nerves still twisted at my stomach at the mere thought of it, but it was just something I would have to get used to. 

I don’t know what had led to me to enter the throne room. I’d stepped out of my and Casteel’s shared chambers, feeling the need to wander, restless with nothing to do. Which was ironic, because I knew there  _ was _ so much to do, but we’d just arrived in Atlantia, and things were already stirring. Resting seemed pointless, what with the need to confront Solis and see my brother and maybe rescue him alongside Malik—and Tawny.

Somehow, I ended up in here. In the grand throne room, empty as the midafternoon sunlight poured in through the windows, washing the room in golden light. My eyes had instantly been drawn to the dais where two thrones sat; both large in size, gold in all their beautiful might. They were equal in size, identical as far as I could tell, and it spoke to the equality between Atlantia’s King and Queen. I almost felt small in front of them.

We were standing just a few feet away from the steps leading up to the seats, but I didn’t make a move. In the quiet of the throne room, I said, “The only times I was ever up on a dais was when the Duke and Duchess held council.” My jaw tightened as memories of having to stand next to their seated figures as they drank in the praise from the very citizens whose children they would possibly feed on. “I hated standing there next to them. Like I was some kind of prized mare,” I added with a scoff. Though my words were bitter, my voice wasn’t. Anger colored my tone, clear to my ears. I didn’t pity myself—just wished I’d fought back sooner. Found out the truth sooner.

But they were both dead. The first of many Ascended that I vowed to see gone.

“That’s not what you’ll be seen as when you take that throne,” Casteel said, his voice both gentle yet firm. I glanced up to see him already looking at me, as if there was any doubt that he wasn’t. “You’re a queen—and you should feel as such.”

His hand found mine then, and I automatically threaded my fingers with his as he pulled me forward. Our footsteps were silent against the sleek floor as he guided me up the steps and I didn’t know why my heart was pounding as Casteel stopped in front of the right hand throne. Did it matter which one I sat on? Up close, they looked the same. 

Using his grip on my hand, Casteel led me forward, raising our joined hands to turn me around until I was facing the empty room. It looked bigger from our slightly elevated position in its vast emptiness. I lifted my gaze to meet Casteel’s once more and a corner of his lips quirked up, hinting at a dimple, before he gestured to the seat behind me with his chin.

I appreciated what he was doing, trying to get me comfortable in a role I wasn’t frightened to accept, but just nervous—like anyone else, I think, in my position would be if they were suddenly thrown into it like I was. But having Casteel there with me, by my side as my husband, significantly helped. As much as the mere sight of him thrilled me, he was the only one to ever make me feel so comfortable—safe. 

And so I lowered myself, throat working as I settled onto the throne, the cushion firm yet welcoming. I didn’t expect to feel any different because I knew this was more for my benefit, so I felt comfortable when I truly had to take the throne in front of the people of Atlantia, but as I sat with my arm on top of the arm rest, Casteel still holding my other hand, and leaned back comfortably, I realized that. . . There was some power there. Even as I faced an empty room.

Casteel moved then, and I watched as he settled down onto the throne to my right, his fingers never unlocking from mine. There wasn’t too much space between the two thrones, so our joined hands comfortably hung in the space, and I felt my chest swell with a deep breath and a smile curve at my lips as I looked at him.

He was more or less sprawled on the throne, looking like he belonged on the seat, like he was born to be King. And maybe he was, judging by how natural it seemed for him to be sitting there; leaning back, elbow resting on the arm rest while his fingers stayed locked with mine, long legs relaxed in front of him. The picture of a man knowing where he belonged and being comfortable with it.

My heart calmed down and I knew that this was where I belonged, too. Together, with him.

“Is the throne to your liking?” Casteel asked upon noticing me relax, ever so perceptive.

I looked at him again, a smile tilting at my lips. “Yes,” I answered with a light laugh. “A lot more comfier than it looks.”

Amusement danced in his golden eyes as I felt his fingers play with mine, his touch light and sweet. He ran his gaze over me and I felt that familiar flush on my skin whenever he did that. “You look like you’re sitting exactly where you belong.” My smile widened and his smirk returned. “Well, at least  _ one _ place where you belong.”

I raised an eyebrow, knowing that look in his eyes all too well. “Oh?” I sounded. “There’s more than one?”

His tug on my hand was answer enough and I grinned, easily getting up from the throne that was mine and taking the few steps towards my husband, his hand never losing its grip on mine. Casteel’s gaze was locked onto mine as I stood in front of him, in the space between his legs as he looked up at me, his gaze and seated figure inviting in the way it made my heart beat wildly in my chest.

Thanks to the ease of my leggings, I tapped into the ease, comfort, and courage I felt whenever I was around him and moved to take the seat Casteel obviously wanted me to. I straddled my legs on either side of him, settling on his lips as I felt both of his hands instantly find my hips.

I leaned forward, his familiar scent taking over pleasantly, my hands resting on his broad shoulders. His gaze, a molten gold that sent fire to the pit of my stomach, was fixed on me as I brushed my lips against his. With a voice that wasn’t my own and only ever made an appearance for Casteel, I murmured, “I think I prefer  _ this _ throne.”

My words spurred him into action as Castee closed whatever small gap had been left between us, lips capturing mine in a toe curling kiss. I slid my hands from his shoulders to his face, cupping the hard lines of his jaw as the kiss deepened, nothing soft or slow about it as I felt my body melt into his hard, warm one. Every other thought flew out of my head as I lost myself in Casteel’s kisses, because nothing else mattered but him. I didn’t care that we were in a big empty room, where anyone could walk through those large, shut doors and catch us. But, Gods, I didn’t care. Not when his hands were scorching my skin and his kisses robbed me of my breath in the best way.

Soon my hands started wandering, sliding down his chest until I reached the hem of his breeches, fingers working on the laces that tightened them. I could tell Casteel was seconds away from tugging up my own tunic, but I slipped my fingers into the hem of his breeches to begin pulling them down, readying myself to get up so I could get them off.

“Poppy,” Casteel groaned against my mouth, knowing exactly what I intended as he tried to reclaim my lips when I pulled away slightly.

“What?” I asked, unable to help the innocent tone that slipped into my voice, my lips brushing against his with every word. “I just want to show you how much I like it here.”

He caught the smile on my face and I saw the way his eyes darkened at the implication behind my words. Whatever confidence I had in this moment, it was only for him, driven forward by the way Casteel looked at me and what I could feel from him. My own heart was thundering wildly, skin flushed and lips tingling, but I didn’t need to focus to know what I could sense from him. Deep, decadent chocolate in its purest form teased my tongue, and I craved more of him. And Casteel had never been one to not give me what I wanted.

So he loosened his grip on me and I lightly bit my lower lip as I stood up, much more fluidly than I thought I would. Despite himself, I caught the tightening of Casteel’s throat as I knelt in front of him on his throne, his stare fixated on me as I pulled off his breeches, tossing them aside. I’d only done this a couple of times, the taste of him drawing me towards the act more and more. And Casteel, as he looked at me, utterly transfixed that I could see the quickened way his chest rose and fell in anticipation—it only made what was to come all the more exciting.

I didn’t care where we were, didn’t care for any potential mortification in case someone wandered in. All I cared about, all I wanted, was the man in front of me—completely mine to have.

On my knees, right between his legs, I leaned up as my hands rested on his thighs so I could press another lingering kiss to his soft mouth, a kiss he met me halfway with when he leaned forward, too. And, like always, I felt Casteel’s hand cup my cheek, the gold ring cool against my skin as he asked, “Are you sure, Poppy?”

My stomach was already fluttering with anticipation. “Yes.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. “Alright,” Casteel rasped, his hand going from my cheek to the back of my head, fingers tangling through the loose strands as he let himself lean back against the seat. “I’m all yours, my Queen.”

His hold through my hair was trying to guide me right to where he wanted me, but Casteel had the tendency to tease me at times, so why not return the favor? I heard him let out a sigh as I began pressing kisses to his thighs, much like he did to me, along with the added sensation of my nails dragging across his skin. Casteel’s free hand remained on the armrest, gripping it tightly, his fingers in my hair tightening as well when my kisses finally found where he needed them to be.

I started with what I knew he liked, using my tongue to trace a vein along his length, feeling Casteel tense under my touch with a soft, shaky exhale, only to let out a deep, sinful moan that nearly echoed in the grand room when I finally took him in my mouth and gave a worshipping suck. His head tilted back just a bit, pretty neck in view, but his gaze never left mine as he watched me take as much of him into my mouth as I could, hand working what I couldn’t fit. 

His fingers, still tangled in my hair, tightened appreciatively, the muscles of his arm flexing as I tasted him. “Fuck.” Casteel’s voice was hoarse, deep as it sent a shiver down my spine. There was a reverence in his tone, liquid fire burning in his gaze as he watched me. “So fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

His appraising words fluttered in my chest and I hummed against him, the vibrations of the sound pulling another appreciating groan from Casteel and I knew if anyone heard him outside this room, he didn’t give a damn. I didn’t, either. Because the way he looked above me, looking like he was so close to being undone as that very mouth that praised sinful words and delivered breathless kisses parted as he watched me, his breathing growing labored. His amber eyes were deep and clouded with adoration. And I could tell he was close, his body as familiar to me as my own would be; I could feel it in the way his muscles were tensing, his grip on the armrest tightening enough to blanche his knuckles, the fingers in my hair probably the same—though never enough to hurt. 

This power I seemed to have over him. . . It was one I embraced without hesitation.

Closer and closer, I brought him to the edge, and just when I thought he was going to let go, Casteel stopped me. “Poppy,” he said, voice a growl as I pulled away from him, blinking up at him in bleary confusion. His muscles were tight from holding off on his release, using his hand in my hair to tug me forward until his mouth pressed into mine. He swallowed my gasp, fangs scraping my lower lip as he told me, “Not until I’m inside you.”

This was meant to be about him, but if that was what he wanted, who was I to argue?

Still seated, Casteel pulled me to my feet and unceremoniously pulled my leggings and undergarments down, the cool air tickling my skin as I kicked them off. The sight of him was mouth watering and sent my heart into an all new frenzy, the taste of him still teasing my tongue as he guided me back on top of him. I had half a mind to take off my top and his, just to feel the bare skin of his chest against mine, but I was sure we’d have time for that later. Right now, I just  _ needed _ him, the anticipation coiling low in my stomach, as badly as he seemed to need me.

The desire pushed us, and Casteel’s lips once again found mine as he guided me with his hands on my hips until I was sinking down on him. My softer moans and his deeper ones melded into the kiss we shared, my arms around his neck to keep him close as I felt that familiar, blissful stretch around him. I gave myself a moment to adjust, lips lazily working against Casteel’s, before I started moving in a pace that sent my heart racing and Casteel’s grip on me to tighten deliciously.

He broke the kiss for a moment, letting his head tilt back against the seat as he looked up at me, my hair a red curtain around as. The corner of his lips curled into a smirk, fangs and all, and he praised breathlessly, “You take me like a fucking Queen.”

His open admiration only pushed me closer to the release I desperately sought, moaning against his mouth when I felt his arm snake around me and thumb find the spot that only had the coil in the pit of my stomach threatening to unravel even faster. I could tell the empty throne room was filled with the sounds of Casteel’s deeper groans and my breathless moans, creating a cacophony with skin slapping against skin. But that was the last thing on my mind as I found myself closer and closer to the edge, needing it desperately, knowing once I fell over, Casteel would join me.

When he kissed me again, long and slow and dizzying, release found me, the heat of his skin and mine a welcome accompaniment. I think I may have sounded his name against his mouth, a plea and praise all in one as stars exploded behind my closed lids and he fell over the edge just as wildly.

Soon enough, all that could be heard was our labored breathing and I didn’t quite doubt that Casteel could feel my thundering heart as he guided my cheek to rest against his shoulder, our chests pressed together as we caught our breaths. His hands had slipped underneath my tunic, warm as he drew idle circles on my back and my arms remained loosely wrapped around his waist.

“Well,” he spoke up moments later, breathing the silence. I could hear the playfulness in his voice, mixed with unmasked awe. “We’ll definitely be doing that again.”

I couldn’t help but laugh lightly, feeling tired in the best possible way. Not lifting my head yet from his shoulder, I responded, “Only if we get out of here undetected.”

He snorted. “Where’s the fun in that?” I pinched his side despite the grin on my lips, and Casteel chuckled lowly in my ear. “Kidding.” We fell silent again for a few moments, both of us unmoving because I knew, just like me, Casteel didn’t want to be rid of this special sense of intimacy. When Casteel spoke up again, his voice was gentle, hands still drawing comforting circles on my back. “You looked like you belonged on that throne, Poppy,” he said quietly. “You’re a Queen, and everyone should feel lucky to have you as such.” My lips pressed together, feeling the emotion tighten my throat as I lifted my head to meet his gaze. I found nothing but honesty and promise in those gorgeous eyes of his. 

One of Casteel’s hands found my cheek, fingers brushing against my scars without an ounce of hesitance. “I know I am—and not because of what just happened here,” he added with that quick, wicked grin that had my heart stuttering. Except now, despite the flush in my cheeks, I smiled. Casteel pressed his forehead against mine, voice quiet in the breath we shared. And his next few words were ones I would hold close to my heart. “I know because I feel like a King next to you—and I am honored by it.”

Oh, he knew exactly how to rob me of my breath. “I love you,” I murmured into a kiss I pressed to his lips as he returned the sentiment just as softly. “Being a Queen—I wouldn’t be able to do it without you.”

“Yes, you would,” Casteel said instantly, not a single speck of doubt in his voice. It warmed me. He smiled then, bringing out those dimples. “But I am with you. No matter what.”

The words tugged at my heart, bringing a smile to my face as I held him close. “No matter what.”


End file.
